PooPoo
by Diego McLloyedde
Summary: In which odd thing that happen in the depth of my mind spring to life on the flashing screens of fanfic. I guarantee you won't understand what is going on unless you understand how the human brain, namely my human brain, works.
1. A baby born and expletives are involved

Disclaimer: The names belong to Disney because they're cheap lousy bastards. I have to say that on pain of death, well not the cheap lousy bastards part. There's a part in here that belongs to Monty Python. Scarlett's mine, you can steal her, I don't give a crap. That's what half this story is about actually: crap. So here goes:

Shit.

Exactly nine months after she spent the night in Gunnar's Room, Scarlett discovered she was having a baby.

"Oh shit!" she cried into the toilet. Her roommates, who weren't quite awake yet, went back to bed. Afterall, Scarlett's usual random outbursts were just that: random.

Scarlett, however, felt her yelp justified. As she had finished relieving herself this morning, just turning to flush the darn toilet, she found that putrid smelling baby smiling and giggling up at her. "Oh shit!"

And shit was right, the baby was covered in it.

Gunnar Stahl was going to die. All Scandinavian men were going to die.

When Julie woke up, Scarlett was already gone on her morning jog. Shoes gone, hair-tie missing, sweatband nowhere in sight, baby in the potty...wait, baby?

There cooing in a large mound of poo was a baby playing with make-believe chocolate cookie dough.

"Oh shit!" Julie said aloud. This means Scarlett wasn't fat anymore. Recently, Scarlett had looked excessively bloated and puffy, bumping Julie (who swears she's only all muscle) to second place on the fatso list.

"I feel obese," Julie moaned to the baby, who threw a pattie at her.

"Shit."

And shit was right. Julie was covered in it.

When Connie woke up, the baby was long gone, confiscated by Coach Wolf Stansson, Czar of the Russo-Icelandic Magis, Don of the Scicilian-Icleandic One-eyes, Sheik of the Arab-Icelandic Fireflies, and Chieftain of the Irish-Icelandic Lets-Get-Drunk-On-Vodka-So-We-Can-Pretend-We're-Russians Pyrites. Wolf Stansson's family, the Odin-Bran (makers of that internationally-renown mythological cereal), had known (some say from experience) that inter-marriages are no way to go for world-domination; so indeed, Wolf can claim every single ethnicity known to man, and is hell-bent on discovering the rest for the benefit of his as of yet non-existant multi-great-grandchildren and the future of the Viking renaissance.

Of course, Connie didn't know this. All she knew was that the bathroom was covered in manure.

"Ew shit! I'll go shower with Guy."

Needless to say, Guy Germaine received a fantastic, albeit slightly smelly (oh who are we kidding!), super-happy-super-early-birthday surprise.

Gunnar Stahl was not happy. Scarlett had come storming into his room screeching about a baby.

"Baby?"

"Yes, you stupid non-English-speaking not-quite-Icelandic Icelander! Baby! As in Baby Gunnarsson! As in my freakin' father is now a fucking grandfather!"

This was indeed the truth. Wolf Stansson was not only freaky, freaking, and mildly spastic, he was now the most sexually active grandfather on the face of this earth.

Consequently, Wolf was sitting in his office receiving a blowjob and other undeserved attention from his harem of girls ages eighteen to twenty-four (or however old those nuns in that Monty Python and the Holy Grail movie were). He was near orgasm and his perpetually cold and sneering face (we suspect botox) finally resembled just a smudge of feeling.

The girls all hurrumphed when the phone abruptly rang.

"Your daughter just had a baby," The woman on the other end calmly informed him.

"And I was just about to make a new one..." he began irritably until it dawned on him. "Oh SHIT!"

"How in the world did you guess?"

Wolf paused, not sure what to make of this. Finally,he resigned, "Look Maria, where is she? I'll talk to her."

"She's here, with a comatose Gunnar Stahl..."

In the background, he heard a piercing, not-at-all muffled "Mom, tell Daddy I want him here NOW!"

"You hear that? She wants you here. Now. But do wipe off the pussy cream before you show up, will you? And wash your mouth, I really don't want to know what any other woman tastes like."

Almost instinctively, Wolf replied, "None of them taste as good as you do."

"Well, as long as you know that."

"Of course I do."

"Yes, well."

"Well."

"Wolf?"

"Huh?"

"Stop dawdling and get your spoiled arse down here."

So that's all I got. Yay! My first fanfic! I'm falling into the trap.

Read and Review, as they say I guess. And enjoy. If you don't understand the way my mind works, I don't blame you.

S


	2. In which characters are introduced

Disclaimer: Disney is God and therefore Disney owns everything and holds the key there demise also. GRRRRR! YOU HAD TO FOOL US ALL WITH THE D4, DIDN'T YOU! Flirting with our minds you are. Usually, I would have to say that J.K. Rowling is the Dark Lord and sprawls like the giant squid over everything, but when we're in the 'real' world, Rowling transforms into Walt Disney (headstone says R.I.P., not likely) who has control over our lives even from beyond his grave and the reach of animated entertainment. Suddenly, the squid has become a giant octopus (if you haven't seen Little Mermaid, shame on you, not everyone sing 'Under the Sea'!)

Some background information:

I recently realized that people can't actually read minds. Oho! What? No way! So I'm now aware that people really don't know who this Scarlett character is.

Well, to put it simply, she's me. Well, knocked up…well, pretty….well, she plays hockey…

Nevermind, she isn't me. That's too bad. Not that I'm all that keen on being knocked up.

Scarlett is Wolf Stansson's daughter.

But you knew that already.

Let me start over.

Wolf Stansson has had a twenty-two-year affair with a Gypsy named Maria. He's never felt it necessary to ask her to marry him, although he was tempted to for tax purposes. In my mind, Maria has fluctuated between dead, unfortunate coma and alive…depending on my mood and on whether I want Scarlett to have had a tragic, precocious, or bratty outlook on life this particular day. For the last few months, Maria has been alive, although she was dead two days ago when I had a power outage for six hours, and the rain and candles were making me gloomy.

Anyway, Maria and Wolf have four kids, in this order: Michael 20, Eddie 18, Scarlett 17, and Conner 16. Sometimes Scarlett has a twin sister named Aedan, but since I've already started writing, for THIS story, let's just say that Scarlett is the only girl. Same reason as above, sometimes, Wolf Stansson has a godson that Scarlett is intensely jealous of, but I'm not going to add ANOTHER character who might upset the wonderful father-daughter relationship we are going to build upon.

Scarlett ran away from home to join team USA. Depending on the version, and this particular one is NOT my favorite, just what I happened to write down, Scarlett either got into a fight with her father or got into another fight with her father or got into a completely different fight with her father. For this version, I haven't worked out what fight she got into with her father, but maybe you can give me ideas. Anyway, Scarlett is obviously a Daddy's girl…when she wants to be. She's a tom-boy usually, but because she's got a seductive mother and because she's just perfect like that, she also knows HOW to be a girl.

Nevermind, cross that out. Scarlett is Wolf's favorite because she can hurt people really really well (we still don't know WHY Gunnar Stahl is comatose, just that he is, but we know that Scarlett is harboring resentment). This is also why she's such a good hockey player…well, she's fast too and she's got a good aim and is agile, but that all came to be because she's had so much experience with hitting people and making sure they don't hit her back. She's brutal on the ice. She's wayyyyyyy better than Adam Banks because I hate Adam Banks because he is NOT cute and people won't shut up about him.

Scarlett was on the Ducks since D2. Her brothers Eddie and Conner (whose real name is William, but I keep on wanting to call him Charlie cause he's got curly hair like cute man-child-prodigy Charlie from the TV show Numb3rs. I couldn't call him Willie, because obviously, you can't call someone Willie with a straight face, and I hate the names Billy and Bill, and I know a person named Will who I dislike with a great passion. One day I just gave up and started calling him Conner and somehow it's worked so far.). Eddie and Conner were on the Vikings and suffered humiliating losses. They later took their frustration out on their sister's motorcycle that she smuggled in from Greenland because she was underage to buy it publicly in Reykjavik. It turned pink and flowery and sort of pom-pomish overnight with permanent non-coverable paint (because Icelanders are geniuses and have invented non-repaint-overable paint that the rest of the world hasn't even heard of…that's because they have heeded the ancient Chinese wisdom that 'eating fish good for head!')

Years later, the Ducks are in Iceland, Scarlett's home again! They are in a two-year hockey seminar and they're paired with the Vikings. They're staying in Iceland for one year and going to Minnesota for the next. After that, the boys will all get drafted by the minor leagues and the girls will go to college. Then after that, the boys will play for the NHL and the girls will get married and become proper model housewives with waxy smiles and chocolate cookies and shrilly voices that will scare the piss out of your anus if you dare trek mud in the house.

So…that's all the background you really need to know. Have fun rereading the first chapter and hopefully it makes more sense…maybe.

S

To all you lazy readers who haven't reviewed: I'd say screw you but that' just make you hate me more.

To ducky: thanks. If you understand my mind, then I'm terribly sorry, there's something wrong with you…j/k. Thanks for the only review I've had. That means a lot to a new writer who is shivering and starving in her poverty and destitution. You have given me light and warmth and you have kept me going. One day I will repay you. Blessing on you, sir or madam, may you become the luckiest person in the world forever and ever.

Tootles and ta.


End file.
